


Undercover Perks

by ArgentLives



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Gratuitous Appreciation for Leather, Motorcycles, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 09:21:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6148891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentLives/pseuds/ArgentLives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iris runs into someone unexpected while getting the scoop on a story, and they're surprisingly friendly. Maybe a little too friendly, and it should probably bother her more that she's not actually bothered by it much at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Undercover Perks

**Author's Note:**

> honestly I just started writing this because of Iris's outfit in "Fast Lane" and then I don't really know what happened

“On your marks,” an unfamiliar voice echoed hollowly in Iris’s ears, followed by an increasingly muffled, “… _set_ …!” She scuffed her heel against the asphalt and raised her gaze to the star-sprinkled sky, barely catching the flash of color in corner of her vision—a flag being waved, her mind absently supplied. And then the cars were off and speeding away before she could blink, the screech of their tires sending an unpleasant shiver up her spine. She scowled and pulled her jacket tighter around her body, the fur around the collar tickling her neck, as she turned her attention back to the crowd still huddled around the start, hollering after the cars speeding away, hurling insults and encouragements and everything in between. Useless words that the drivers couldn’t possibly hear anyway—not over the roar of their engines, the adrenaline likely pounding in their ears.

Iris, for her part, watched the scene before her from the shadows. From her vantage point, she doubted anyone would recognize her as the girl who’d been there just two days ago, discretely (or so she hoped) taking pictures and…well, trying maybe just a little too hard to blend in. She wore pretty much the same outfit now, just a little more jewelry and little more skin, a different color shirt that cut off just above her navel to expose a solid few inches of skin above her shorts, and high-top boots instead of heels.

All the time and effort she put into this disguise (was it a disguise?), and really, what was the point? Here she was, hiding in the shadows, carefully surveying the area and listening in for any information she might be able to use for her scoop, where no one was likely to see her. But…well. The point, she conceded, kicking another stray pebble out of her way, was that she _wanted_ to. Not necessarily to be here, and definitely not watching her little brother risk serious injury doing something as reckless as this, but out in the field.

Getting dressed up, putting on a disguise—maybe not necessarily like Barry’s, but something, at least—to chase a story was, quite frankly, exciting. And standing here watching and waiting and alone with her thoughts, shrouded by the steadily falling darkness the night had brought, it was easy to get caught up in the thrill of pretending to be someone else, even if the difference was just a few slightly over-the-top fashion choices and a purple streak in her hair. And, as much as she wanted to expose the scumbag running this thing and convince Wally to stop, she had to admit there was another benefit of this as well: experience. She was already learning so much about how to be discrete, how to get the story and collect the evidence and the facts she needed without drawing too much attention to herself, what to do and what not to do like—

“My, my, my! If it isn’t Iris West! Fancy meeting you here.”

—like getting too caught up in her thoughts and letting her guard down.

_Fuck._

Iris startled, nearly blowing her cover as she held back a yelp of surprise, clamping her hand over her mouth in just a nick of time. An odd thrill of fear and intrigue ran through her as she realized who was standing in front of her, who she’d let catch her off guard.

“Snart,” she acknowledged stiffly, lowering the hand over her mouth to rest on her chest, silently willing her heart to slow down. She wondered how Lisa could possibly have known her name; she’d only met her face-to-face once before, and while Barry wasn’t the best at keeping secrets she didn’t think he’d expose the names of his friends and family to a criminal—that was, if they didn’t know already—no matter how morally grey.

Which…was Lisa even morally grey or just…bad? Cisco certainly seemed to think the former, and oddly enough she didn’t feel like she was in any danger with someone arguably very dangerous standing so close. Close enough to really do anything and get away with it, and yet just…making pleasant small talk, which was—weird. It was weird.

“Oh, please, call me Lisa. No need for formalities,” Lisa said, breaking her out of her thoughts as she waved a hand carelessly in the air, obviously enjoying making Iris squirm. There was something far too knowing in her smirk, unsettling enough that Iris worried, somewhat irrationally, that she might be a meta with the power to read minds or something—not exactly an impossible notion, in Central City. Which would really suck, considering fear wasn’t really not the reason her heart was racing in the first place. Lisa looked good, and fuck if she didn’t sort of, maybe, (definitely), have a thing for bad girls, especially ones with faces like that, and a seemingly endless supply of leather.

Lisa leaned against the building, so close to Iris their arms were brushing, reading the tension in Iris’s body like a book, apparently an easily interpreted one. “What brings you here, anyway? I wouldn’t take you for the rule-breaking type, considering the company you keep.” She turned her head towards her, catching Iris staring, and flashed her a wicked grin—all-teeth and razor-sharp. Iris felt her stomach drop.

“You…I don’t…”

“Your friend isn’t very good at keeping his secret identity a secret, you know,” Lisa tutted, pushing herself off the wall so that she stood before Iris and out of the shadows, sharp features illuminated under the soft glow of the streetlights. “Lenny didn’t even have to tell me. It’s all in the eyes, you know?”

She felt a flare of anger at that—at Lisa, for being so goddamn smug, but more at herself, at the reminder that she _hadn’t_ figured it out. At least, not for a while. And she knew Barry better than anyone. She didn’t need the reminder that he’d successfully lied to her, kept an entire part of his life hidden, for almost a year, and apparently even someone like _Lisa Snart_ might have known before her.

 “I’ll make sure to tell him that,” she bit out, forcing herself to stare straight ahead, a fixed point past Lisa’s shoulders, and not into those infuriatingly smug eyes. “And I’m not here to participate. I’m here to get the scoop on a story I’m working on. An article, I mean. I’m undercover.”

“Oooh, how exciting,” Lisa grinned, and Iris looked back at her in annoyance, another spike of anger working its way into her chest at being made fun of but—one look at her expression and it was pretty clear she wasn’t teasing anymore. Iris frowned in confusion, holding her tongue as Lisa spoke, because the other woman actually looked genuinely interested, eyes bright and curious and maybe just a little appreciative. Lisa took a step closer, placing a hand on the wall so that it rested right next to Iris’s head, her gaze flicking down to her lips as she backed Iris further against the building. “Coincidentally, I’m here undercover too.”

And just as quickly as the teasing had gone, it was back again, a mischievous lilt to her voice. Iris held her ground, refusing to rise to Lisa’s bait, determined not to let herself be flustered. Even with her pulse suddenly racing, and Lisa standing so close, she could recognize when her buttons were being pushed. _You’re stronger than this,_ she chided herself, squaring her shoulders. She pushed herself off from the wall a bit to draw herself up to full height—which was not much, admittedly, but still.

“Doing what exactly?” she scoffed, levelling Lisa with a skeptical glare, her lips curling into a bitter smile at the flicker of surprise in Lisa’s expression. “Wait, don’t tell me. Something illegal. Obviously.”

Lisa, for her part, was just as stubborn, not moving an inch and batting her eyelashes innocently at Iris. That perpetual smirk she always seemed to wear merely widened, but Iris noted with satisfaction that now it looked a little forced, a bit tighter, less playful, than it had before. It was nice to know she could get under her skin just as well.

“Not quite, sweetheart. Although you do know that just by being here, being a part of all this,” Lisa made a grand sweeping gesture to the scene around them, the drivers already having finished their race. “Well, I’m sure you know none of it is really legal.”

Iris blinked, staring hard at the now-parked cars, because _when had that even happened?_ So much for being vigilant. She felt herself flush as she took in Lisa’s words, frustrated at herself because she’d walked right into it, all while thinking she’d had the upper hand. “Clearly I’m not participating,” Iris glared at her, tilting her head up and squaring her jaw, “I’m just observing. At least my reasons are moral.”

“And you assume mine aren’t?” Lisa pouted, tilting her head to the side, something off in her tone. Iris opened and closed her mouth, momentarily thrown, because she’d been expecting another smirk, or snarky comment, not…whatever it was she was seeing in Lisa’s eyes, or the sudden downturn of her lips. Lisa shook her head, wiping the scowl off her face as quick as it had come, and gestured to Iris’s get-up. “But do tell me—what is all this for?”

“I told you, I’m _undercover_ ,” Iris huffed, wrapping her arms around her middle, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and much too exposed. “I was trying to blend in.”

“Well,” Lisa took a step closer, crowding Iris’s space again, making her pulse jump, “You certainly went all out, then. You look simply _ravishing_.”

“And you—” Iris stopped herself, swallowing up the response teetering on the tip of her tongue, because no matter how good the other woman might look (and _wow_ did she look good), there was no way she was flirting with Lisa Snart. _Nope. No way_. It wasn’t happening. “You look like you’re up to something,” she settled on, because that was certainly true too.

“Must you always assume the worst of me?” Lisa sighed, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “I’m here because that guy over there—” she turned her head just a bit, like she was reluctantly to look away, to point to the very same sleazy guy Iris had tracked down for information the day before, “—owes me, and a lot of other people, money. I don’t like it when people don’t make good on their promises, so. I thought I’d scope out the area, see if I could find a way to…talk to him.”

“ _Him?_ ” Iris almost laughed, because really, _small world_. She licked her lips, not missing the way Lisa followed the motion with piercing, cat-like eyes, focus all on her again. It was slightly unsettling, and Iris hid an awkward cough behind her hand to shield her mouth from Lisa’s view, because if she kept staring at her like that she might end up doing something spectacularly stupid. “He’s actually the guy I’m after too. The ring leader, at least. If I can get this article out—well, let’s just say you won’t have to worry about getting your revenge. He’ll be ruined.”

“Well,” Lisa’s eyebrows shot up, clearly impressed, and she voiced Iris’s thoughts with a smirk. “I suppose it’s a small world, after all.”

“Seriously?” Iris rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to smile as Lisa grinned delightedly at her own joke.

“Oh, lighten up, sweetheart,” she laughed, and it was—nice. Surprisingly light and airy, not at all what she’d been expecting from the other woman, because…well, what had she been expecting? Some supervillain cackle? Lisa wasn’t—she wasn’t _really_ that bad. “In that case,” Lisa went on, reaching out and patting Iris’s cheek with warm and slightly calloused fingers, “I have some information you might find useful. I’d be willing to share, in exchange for what you know. But I would rather share it…away from prying eyes.”

“Sure. Yeah. Information,” Iris said, gaze falling to Lisa’s mouth as her lips curled up into another one of those razor-sharp smirks, swallowing hard as Lisa’s nails trailed lightly down her cheek, and then across her jawline, leaving the path it left on Iris’s skin burning. “Good, sounds good. We could—where would we—we could go to your place?”

“Perfect,” Lisa grinned, and before Iris could blink, the hand on her face was gone, sliding down her arm, deliberately slow, until it found her hand, and then she was being tugged away from the wall, Lisa’s fingers tangled with hers. And Lisa was—wow. Really strong.

“My ride’s over there,” Lisa jerked a thumb over her shoulder, relinquishing her grip on Iris’s hand. Iris felt her mouth go dry at the sight of the sleek black and yellow motorcycle sitting there, gleaming prettily in the moonlight. It certainly suited Lisa.

“You ride a motorcycle?” she asked, wide-eyed and just a little dazed, picturing Lisa pulling up to this place, or any place really, on that thing wearing all that damn leather. _Fuck,_ she thought, shaking her head to dispel image, only to realize that Lisa was still standing right in front of her. _Fuck._

“But of course,” Lisa grinned, visibly pleased by Iris’s reaction. She made her way over to the bike, gesturing for Iris to follow, and Iris was momentarily torn over whether to continue staring at it or to divert her attention to the spectacular view she was suddenly presented with of Lisa’s backside in those pants. The latter won out because—well, the pants were _really_ tight. “Why? You like that?”

“I—yeah,” Iris breathed, reluctantly tearing her gaze back up to Lisa’s face as Lisa climbed onto the motorcycle, her face heating up as she caught the satisfied look in Lisa’s eye; it was obvious she knew exactly what she’d caught Iris doing. “I, um, I’ve always wanted one, but my dad would’ve had my head if I ever tried.”

“Well, hop on. And hold on tight.”

This was ridiculously risky and dangerous and probably very stupid, but she got her best stories from taking risks, anyway. How was this any different? She only hesitated for a moment before she nodded and climbed onto the bike, hyper-aware of how close Lisa was, feeling the heat radiating off of her as she accepted the helmet Lisa offered. Lisa revved the engine and let out another tinkling laugh when she heard Iris gasp behind her, and scooted back on the bike a bit so that there no space left between them. Iris didn’t give herself enough time to dwell on the sudden heat that flared through her at the contact as Lisa elbowed her lightly in the stomach. Did everything on the woman have to be so damn _sharp_?

“Put your arms around me, West.”

“It’s Iris, and—what?”

Lisa huffed—a motion that Iris felt rather than heard, _Jesus_ —and Iris could practically picture her rolling her eyes. “I said, put your arms around me, and hold on, unless you want to go flying off the back of this thing as soon as we start moving.”

“Right. Yeah. Makes sense,” Iris said, her mind silently screaming at her for getting herself into situations like these. Willingly. She wrapped her arms tight around Lisa’s middle and quickly gave into the urge to rest her cheek on the other woman’s shoulder, watching the scenery fly by. She felt more awake than ever, with the wind whipping against her skin and Lisa’s hair blowing back in her face—surprisingly not that unpleasant, because Lisa smelled really good; she’d have to ask her what shampoo she used—and wondered briefly if this might be anything close to what Barry felt when he ran. Of course, minus the butterflies in her stomach; she was fairly certain that was just a side effect of Lisa.

“Comfy back there?” Lisa shouted over her shoulder, and Iris hid her grin against Lisa’s leather jacket.

“All good,” Iris said, pressing her lips close to Lisa’s ear so that she’d be able to hear her over the roar of wind as they zipped down the street. She didn’t miss the way Lisa tensed up as her breath tickled her skin, and bit her lip to tame her smile when she finally relaxed in her grip again.

Maybe she was flirting with Lisa Snart, after all. Just a little.

“You know, you don’t have to hold on _that_ tight.”

"Shut up," she mumbled into Lisa's shoulder, appreciating the leather but wondering what it would feel like to press her lips against the smooth skin hidden beneath it. "You're warm."

Just a lot.


End file.
